Sunset
by JewWitch
Summary: Spashley, set in the Twilight universe. I'm sure you can figure out which one is the dark, broody vampire, and which is the sweet, klutzy human girl who comes to town and rocks her world...this is NOT an exact re-telling of Twilight, just a basis!
1. Chapter 1

**Sunset**

**A Spashley Story**

**By JewWitch**

**Chapter 1**

**………………………………………………………………………………………………**

Spencer shivered reflexively as soon as she stepped out of the plane, into the poorly insulated tube that would lead her into the airport in the tiny town of Port Angeles, Washington. Even though she'd packed a thick sweater and a parka in her carry-on, the damp air was still bitingly cold against her tanned California skin, and her teeth started to chatter loudly in her head. _I guess I'll get used to it,_ she thought dully, zipping up her parka as she stumbled awkwardly down the walkway to the gate where her father was waiting.

"Spencer! Welcome home, baby. I'm so happy to see you." Arthur Carlin enveloped his daughter's smaller frame in an enthusiastic bear hug. It had been a long time since she'd been hugged like that; she was surprised to feel a swell of tears behind her eyes as his large hands patted her on the back.

"I'm glad to see you too, Dad," she said quietly, with a weak smile, as he pulled back to look at her. It was true—neither Spencer nor her brother Glen had laid eyes on their father since their parents' bitter divorce five years ago, when Spencer was twelve. She'd tearfully begged her father to take her with him, but her mother had made sure that would never happen. Now, as it turned out, all those expensive lawyer's fees had gone to waste—Spencer hadn't turned out to be quite the daughter Paula wanted, after all, and she was more than happy to send her as far away as possible once word got out that her only daughter was a freaky lesbian. Spencer didn't mind being exiled to her dad's old hometown; but she did sort of wish that he had grown up somewhere a little warmer.

"C'mon sweetheart, let's get your bags so we can get out of here. I think you'll really like your room—it's got a fresh coat of paint, and I managed to scrounge up an old laptop from the station that no one was using. The connection's pretty slow, but at least you'll be able to go online. You can email your brother, and your friends back home." He smiled, and Spencer felt a hard lump rising in the back of her throat. She didn't have the heart to tell him that she no longer had any friends back in LA. Maybe if she'd gone to a regular high school, it wouldn't have been such a big deal…but at the private, all-girls Catholic prep school her mother had forced her to attend, it wasn't exactly the 21st century. She wondered vaguely if there would be any gay kids in Forks. It was a pretty small town…the odds didn't seem good.

She followed her dad out onto the icy pavement, where he automatically steadied her as she slipped and crashed into him sideways. "Whoa!" Arthur laughed, gripping her firmly by her upper arm. "Still the same old Spencer, I see."

"Yep." She smiled stiffly. "I hope you have insurance." Arthur stopped walking, looking down at her tense expression with his warm blue gaze.

"Listen, Spence…I know I can't make up for everything your mom has put you through. I know it's been hard. But things are gonna be better now. We'll _make_ them better. That's a promise."

"That sounds good." She smiled up at him again, only this time it happened naturally; not like she was acting the part of a girl who was happy to see her dad, but like she actually _was_ that girl. She followed him out to the parking lot, where she immediately spotted the police cruiser they'd be driving home in. When she was younger, before her dad left, she'd been proud of getting driven around town in a police car…but at seventeen, it was a definite embarrassment. Not that she'd ever say anything to him about it.

They drove the hour from the airport back to Forks in relative silence; neither of them had ever been any good at small talk. Spencer remembered that. It was always her mother who chattered away at the dinner table, while Glen prattled about sports teams and his friends. It might have been awkward to sit quietly for so long with someone else, but with her dad, it felt comfortable. She leaned her head against the window and watched the thick green foliage whizz by, letting her mind drift vaguely. The time went by surprisingly quickly, and before she'd been expecting it, they were pulling into the driveway of her father's house. It had been her grandparents' once, but she hadn't been here since they died, more than ten years ago. Her dad had kept the house and rented it out after that, which turned out to be a good thing, because it gave him someplace to go after the divorce. Spencer had sometimes wondered whether he didn't plan it that way, on some level.

As they pulled in, she noticed an ancient red pickup truck parked in the driveway; it had the thick, sturdy frame and rounded edges of cars she'd seen in movies from the 1950's. "Is someone else here?" She asked, frowning.

"Nope. It's just you and me, kiddo."

"Then whose truck is that?" Spencer frowned.

"Well, actually…it's yours."

_"What?"_ Spencer squealed, shocked by the feeling of a real smile on her face. "You bought me a _car?"_

"I know it doesn't look like much, but it runs great, sweetie, I swear. I got it fixed up by a friend of mine who builds engines. You'll never have to do anything but fill the tank and change the oil."

"You didn't have to do this, Dad. It must've been so much money…"

"It wasn't that much, Spence, honestly. And you don't have to thank me. I want you to be happy here." She launched herself across the seat and hugged him, then scrambled out of the police cruiser to examine her new mode of transport. A car—well, truck—all her own. Paula would never in a million years have allowed this. Running her fingers over the worn old paint job, Spencer felt a fresh grin creeping onto her face. This was already more than she'd smiled in weeks. Maybe months.

"Thanks, Dad. I love it."

"Well, you're welcome. Use it in good health, as your grandmother would say." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the keys, dropping them into her hand. As much as Spencer wanted to stay outside examining her new (well, new to _her_) truck, she was already shivering in the cold night air of northern Washington, and anyway, she had bags to unpack. The little house was much as she remembered from her childhood, though the "old people" smell had, thankfully, been replaced with her dad's familiar scent of leather soap, pipe tobacco and peppermint. The little bedroom facing the back woods was to be hers; Arthur had painted it pale lavender, and put up gauzy white curtains. The double bed was in the corner under a slanted ceiling, and the promised laptop lay on a small but sturdy-looking wooden desk facing the window. It couldn't have been more different from her room in LA.

"It seems…peaceful here," she remarked, dropping her carry-on bag by the bed.

"Yep, it sure is that. It'll be a bit of an adjustment from the exciting LA life, I'm afraid."

"That's okay…I think I've had enough excitement in my life already." They shared a brief smile of encouragement.

"Well all right, then. I'll leave you to get settled. Come on down in about an hour for dinner, okay?"

"What are we having?" Spencer asked slyly, already looking forward to her first home-cooked meal in years.

"Spaghetti with my homemade meat sauce."

"Oh, snap! That's my favorite."

"Yeah, I remember." Arthur grinned and kissed the top of her head before leaving the room; a moment later, she heard his heavy footsteps clunking down the stairs. Maybe life in Forks wouldn't be so bad, after all.

The rest of the night passed quickly. The heavy feeling of a stomach full of spaghetti, combined with the gentle patter of rain in the trees that started sometime after sunset, caused Spencer to fall deeply asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, in stark opposition to her usual tossing and turning. It wasn't a completely peaceful night, though—she had an unsettling dream of being lost in the deep, green woods, and woke with her heart pounding. It wasn't a nightmare exactly; she hadn't felt scared, just anxious. Like she was looking for someone, somewhere in that endless forest, but she couldn't remember who…like maybe they were just beyond the next bend in the wood, and maybe she could find them, if she could only call out. If she knew who to call for.

Shaking the dream off, Spencer got dressed for her first day of school, wearing all new winter clothes that she'd managed to scrounge up with her small savings before leaving LA. Arthur was waiting downstairs with pancakes, eggs and sausages, and Spencer joked that if he kept this up she'd have to ditch the truck and jog to school every day just to burn the calories. It was still early when they'd finished their breakfast, but Spencer felt too anxious to just sit around the kitchen, so she grabbed her keys, kissed her dad goodbye, and marched boldly out the door.

The school turned out to be easy to find, just like her dad had promised. It was a tiny place; even smaller than her private Catholic school in LA. And these kids, no doubt, had all known each other since they were born. She felt a sharp squirm of insecurity bubble up in her stomach, and firmly pushed it back down as she hopped out of her truck, and walked towards the front entrance of Forks High School. She went to the office first, and the kind, grandmotherly woman behind the desk seemed to know who she was before she'd even said hello. Of course, what else had she expected—how many new kids could a school like this have? Thankfully, word of the scandal back in LA didn't seem to have reached Forks. Spencer assumed that she wouldn't be getting this smile from the grey-haired school secretary if her expulsion from St. Anne's for homosexual conduct was public knowledge; and for this, at least, she was grateful. It wasn't that she wanted to go back into the closet…but she was hoping to avoid being an object of gossip in Forks, at least while she was the new girl. If it came up, then fine; but she wasn't about to broadcast it.

Since she was so early, she had time to stop in the library to pick up her new textbooks, and by the time she was done with that, the halls were filling up with students. She decided it was worth making a trip to her new locker to drop off all her books, even if it made her a couple of minutes late to her first class; teachers have to be nice on your first day, after all. Staggering under the weight of the heavy pile of books in her arms, Spencer tripped over her stiff new boots and crashed rather spectacularly into something very hard, that sent her sprawling to the floor. When she looked up, dazed, at what she'd hit, she realized it wasn't a what…it was a who.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," she panted, used to making such apologies, even as her stomach leapt up into her throat and her heart started thrashing against her ribs like a fish out of water. The girl she'd just crashed into was…too beautiful to be real. Certainly too beautiful for Forks, or for high school in general. Her dark hair fell in soft curls over her shoulders and down her back, in sharp contrast to her milk-white skin, so pale it almost seemed to glow. Spencer couldn't reconcile her delicate features with the extremely solid _thunk_ she'd just taken when she bumped into the girl's ivory shoulder…but that thought was swept wholly from her mind when she looked up into the girl's liquid-dark eyes, staring furiously back into her own. She looked so angry, so alarmed, so utterly bewildered, that for a second Spencer wondered if she'd managed to hit the girl harder than she'd realized. But, no; she wasn't holding her side, or rubbing her arm, or giving any other indication that she was hurt. Why then was she so furious?

"I _said_ I'm sorry," Spencer said again, slightly indignantly—she was the one sprawled on the floor, after all. The gorgeous girl narrowed her onyx eyes, visibly gritting her teeth. She made no move to help Spencer off the floor.

"Whatever," She mumbled, before turning on her heels and walking briskly in the opposite direction, leaving Spencer alone and bewildered on the floor. _Jesus, what's her problem?_ Spencer thought furiously as she picked herself up and gathered her fallen books. Her heart was still thumping unsteadily in her chest when another newcomer approached her, thankfully with a smile on her face instead of a scowl.

"Hey, you're Spencer Carlin, right?" This girl was pretty, too, though nowhere near the realm of the pale angel she'd just crashed into. _Stop it! She's not an angel, she's a big jerk._ Spencer forced her attention back to the girl who was actually bothering to talk to her. She had light brown, wavy hair, hazel-ish sort of eyes, and a creamy, vaguely ethnic skin tone—Latina, Spencer guessed.

"Um, yeah. How did you know?" Spencer joked weakly, with an awkward smile.

"Girl, please. You are the top news item today! I'm Madison. Welcome to Forks High. Do you know where your first class is?"

"Um, sort of…" Spencer pulled out her new schedule to consult. "I'm supposed to be in Junior English now."

"Ooh, me too! I'll walk you." She grabbed Spencer's upper arm unceremoniously, steering her down the now crowded hall and talking a mile a minute. Spencer knew she should be relieved that she'd made a friend so fast, but instead she was annoyed that Madison had interrupted her alone-time before she'd had a chance to properly process her strange run-in with the gorgeous dark-haired girl, whose face she couldn't seem to push out of her mind. Luckily, Madison seemed like the type who didn't need a lot of encouragement to carry a conversation; in fact, Spencer didn't have to say anything else until they reached English. She introduced herself to the teacher, and was beyond grateful when he allowed her to take her seat without standing in front of the class to introduce herself. They were reading _The Scarlet Letter,_ which she'd already read in LA, so she didn't feel too guilty about paying only marginal attention to the teacher's lecture. Instead, her thoughts turned back to the strange and beautiful girl from the hallway, whose name she didn't even know. Even if she was some popular alpha-bitch type, her reaction had seemed wildly out of proportion. And she hadn't said anything biting or humiliating—she hadn't really said anything at all—and that didn't add up with the type of popular-girl fury that Spencer had encountered before.

And she hadn't just been angry…she'd looked deeply freaked out, too, and that didn't make sense, either. Spencer was not a scary person. What about her could possibly have wigged the other girl out so badly that she couldn't even manage a sarcastic retort? Before Spencer was able to form any sort of conclusion, the bell rang, and she was off to her next class, with Madison happily leading, still chattering away about the "cool kids" who she'd introduce Spencer to at lunch, how exciting it was to know someone from LA, and how they all couldn't wait to hear about it. She wasn't thrilled with being the center of attention, but it was certainly better than being ignored completely, so she let Madison guide her through the rest of her morning, all the way to the lunch room, where she was introduced to Mike, Tyler, Lauren, Jessica, and Ben, all of whom were as eager as Madison to hear stories of her exciting LA life.

"Um, actually…things in LA got kind of crazy for me," she said carefully, looking down at her apple and twirling it around the stem. "I'm sort of looking forward to the quiet life here."

"Well we've certainly got plenty of that," Madison snorted, rolling her eyes, clearly disappointed. Then Jessica asked Mike if he'd finished his half of their Biology lab, and the little group dispersed into smaller conversations, for which Spencer was deeply grateful. She looked up then, covertly stealing glances around the room. It didn't take long for her eyes to find their target. In a far corner of the lunch room, an entire ten-person table was taken up by just three people: the stunningly beautiful girl from this morning, another girl, and a boy, all of them painfully gorgeous. They looked more like runway models than high school students. They were all pale, with dark hair; but they didn't look related. The other girl looked vaguely Asian, with straight, glossy brown hair that fell down her back in a sheet; unlike her, the boy had wavy, thick hair that was almost black, cropped fairly short above his ears, and he was very muscle-y. He had his hand on the shorter girl's thigh, in a casual but intimate way that made Spencer sure they were dating. Yet they all had the exact same milkbone skin, the same pitch-black eyes…

"Who are _they?"_ Spencer breathed quietly, too transfixed to make the question come out casual.

"Oh, they're the Davies," Jessica said, hearing her question from across the table. "The boy is Aiden, the shorter girl is Kyla, and the other one is Ashley. They moved here from Alaska or something with their dad a couple of years ago. Well—their adopted dad. None of them are really related."

"It's still sick," Madison shot back viciously. "Kyla and Aiden are _together,"_ she added to Spencer, as if she'd needed clarification. "It's not natural."

"But…they're not really brother and sister, right?" Spencer asked slowly, though right now she really didn't care if they were. She was only thinking about one thing: Ashley.

"No," Madison sniffed grudgingly. "But they live together. It's a sin." Discussions about sin and who would burn in the fires of hell for all eternity was the last thing Spencer needed to hear about, so she just tuned out, staring covertly over at the Davies' table whenever she had a chance. Just after the last time she looked back down at her own lunch tray, Jessica stage-whispered across the table—

"Oh my God, Spencer, Ashley Davies is _totally_ staring at you."

"Does she look mad?" Spencer asked meekly, feeling a blush warming her cheeks.

"No," Jessica replied, sounding puzzled. "Should she?"

"I don't think she likes me," Spencer said lamely, too terrified to turn and look the girl—Ashley—directly in the eyes.

"You're in good company there," Mike snorted. "Her highness never talks to _anyone_ but her family." There was a note of bitterness in his voice that made Spencer sure he'd asked her out at least once, and been rejected—probably not gently, based on what little she knew of the girl. Still…it was nice to know she was single.

The bell rang then, and Mike and Tyler both jumped up at once to show Spencer to her next class. Spencer noticed that both Lauren and Jessica seemed annoyed by all the attention the boys were showing her, and hoped it wouldn't last—the attention, or the annoyance. She already knew there was only one person she wanted attention from, and unfortunately, the odds of that didn't seem good. Already weary of her first day in Forks, Spencer rose to follow the others to her next class.


	2. Chapter 2

Heya Peeps!

Thanks for all the feedback; it's awesome to be so well received (and it definitely motivates me to update)! So here's another chunk of goodness...hope you like it!

--JW :)

* * *

**Sunset**

**Chapter 2**

**By JewWitch**

* * *

Spencer had just taken a seat for her first class of the afternoon—Spanish—when a soft, musical, wind-chime voice spoke very close to her ear.

"Hey, it's Spencer, right?" Not having noticed that anyone had taken the seat beside her, Spencer jumped a little in alarm at the close proximity of the voice, turning to see the other Davies girl—Kyla—giving her a stunning smile from the next desk. She was heartbreakingly beautiful, too, though her proximity didn't have quite the same paralyzing effect on Spencer that Ashley's did…though that may have been due to the simple fact that Kyla wasn't giving her the kiss-of-death stare. Her hair was light brown, but as sleek and bone-straight as the black hair Spencer was used to seeing on the Asian kids back home. Combined with her just barely slanted eyes, and a slightly broad nose, Spencer was pretty sure she was at least part Asian, despite her startlingly pale skin. Like Ashley's, it almost seemed to glow; Spencer wondered fleetingly what would happen if she shined a blacklight on one of the Davies in a dark room. Suddenly, she realized she'd been sitting there silently staring at the girl a little longer than was strictly polite.

"Oh…yeah. Sorry. You're Kyla Davies, right?"

"My reputation precedes me," Kyla grinned, cocking her head to the side and rolling her eyes playfully. Spencer instantly liked the girl. "Are they giving you any room to breathe so far? You've been the buzz of the school for over a week already."

"Yeah, I'm kind of picking up on that," Spencer sighed, rolling her eyes, too. "It's…different. I'm not used to getting this much attention."

"That's hard to believe," Kyla said bluntly, putting her chin in her hand and focusing her shockingly dark eyes on Spencer's face. "You look like the homecoming queen type, hon. You weren't at the top of the cheerleader pyramid back home?" Spencer snorted in disbelief.

"Um, not quite. My old school didn't even have cheerleaders…or football players…or homecoming queens. But if we did, it definitely wouldn't have been me. I was more the blending into the scenery type."

"I don't think that's gonna work for you here," Kyla whispered conspiratorially, with a little smirk of amusement.

"Nope, doesn't seem like it. But everyone here has been super-nice to me…mostly." Her thoughts flickered automatically back to the furious expression on Ashley's perfect face, and her stomach flip-flopped like a Slinky going down stairs.

"Yeah…sorry about my sister. She's usually not such a tool. I think she's feeling sick today or something, not that that's an excuse. But honestly, she's cool."

"Oh…" Spencer felt the heat rushing to her cheeks at the mere mention of Ashley's name. She wondered how Kyla knew about that; then figured that Ashley must have told her, though, again, she wasn't sure how Ashley even knew her name. Probably the same way everyone here seemed to. But still… "That's okay. I mean, I plowed into her with an enormous pile of books—not exactly the introduction Miss Manners would recommend."

"You're funny," Kyla beamed, and Spencer couldn't help smiling back.

"I am?" She asked hesitantly.

"Of course," Kyla laughed, shaking her head. "Funny _and_ cute—you'll have half the guys in this school vying for your attention before the weekend rolls around." The way she said it, Spencer could tell that Kyla was trying to be nice, not freak her out. Still, it wasn't thrilling to hear she was about to be beating off boys with a stick. She wanted to come out on her _own_ terms, not as a defense strategy against the entire male population of Forks High ogling her.

"Peachy," she groaned, putting her head in her hands.

"What? You have a boyfriend back home?"

"No," Spencer mumbled.

"Girlfriend?" That got Spencer's attention. She immediately picked her head up and stared at Kyla warily.

"No…there's no one back home."

"Well all right then. You're young and free in America! Cheer up. And I'll tell you what—if you really don't want to go on any dates this weekend, just tell everyone who asks you out that I'm taking you shopping all weekend. Okay?"

"'Kay," Spencer nodded, grinning shyly. She tried not to think about whether being friends with Kyla would increase her chances of seeing Ashley again. Then, belatedly, something else occurred to her. "Wait—what's wrong with my clothes?!" Kyla giggled again, putting her hand over her mouth as the teacher walked in and began the lesson.

After Spanish, Spencer was in a better mood; mostly due to Kyla, whose infectious charm made the blonde girl more optimistic that she might actually get to have a life in Forks. She made it through Trig, History and study hall without really paying attention, mostly because all her classes here were a little too easy. There was no honors track in a school this small, and Spencer realized that she was likely to be bored a lot of the time. Oh, well. Maybe if she talked to some of her teachers privately, they'd give her some extra projects to work on…she wanted to be challenged, but she didn't want to blab about it to the whole world_. Hey, I'm so much smarter than the rest of you, I'm actually asking for more homework!_

Her last class of the day was Biology, where all the seats were arranged in small tables of two, just like in her old school. She saw a balding, kindly looking man at the front of the room in a white lab coat, and went to introduce herself.

"Excuse me, Mr. Banner? I'm Spencer Carlin."

"Ah, yes, Chief Carlin's daughter," he smiled warmly. "Welcome, welcome. We're in the middle of a lab right now, but you can see me after class if you need help catching up. Will that be all right?"

"Sure," Spencer nodded absently, more concerned about the possibility that he would ask her to stand at the front of the class and say something about herself, as some of the other teachers had.

"All right, then. You can take the empty seat next to"—he was already pointing to an empty table on the left side of the room when his eyes fixed on the two empty seats, and he frowned. "Oh, it looks like Ms. Davies is running late. Well, I'll help you get started in the meantime." Spencer's stomach did another round of calisthenics.

"Um, are you talking about Kyla?" She asked nervously.

"Ahh, no, Kyla Davies isn't in this class. You'll be lab partners with her sister, Ashley." Spencer wondered if it was possible to feel this excited, and this terrified, at the same time; or if she was merely having a psychotic breakdown.

"Okay," she said hollowly, stumbling blindly over to her seat without really seeing anything around her. All her energy was consumed with what she would say when Ashley arrived. Her thoughts were racing so hard, she didn't realize until the period was half over that the other girl still hadn't arrived. Why wasn't she in class? Spencer wondered angrily. Maybe she really was sick, as Kyla had said; maybe she had felt so sick that she'd gone home early. Maybe that was why she was so bitchy this morning.

It couldn't possibly be about _her_. The idea that the girl would actually skip class to avoid her, after having spoken exactly one word in her presence, was insane. Spencer reassured herself of this, and it took the edge off her disappointment to know that she'd have plenty more chances to talk to the other girl, now that they'd be seated next to each other for an hour every day.

When the final bell rang, Spencer had to stop back into the office to hand in her enrollment form, which each of her teachers had signed throughout the day. When she arrived in the little room, she immediately recognized the long, shiny dark curls of the girl bent across the desk, speaking in low, agitated tones to the elderly school secretary.

"There _must_ be another class you can move me into," Ashley was saying; her hauntingly beautiful voice was trembling with urgency. "I'll take anything, okay? Even gym." She sounded so desperate.

"Sorry, hon. No schedule changes after the start of the semester, you know that. You'll just have to manage."

"I _can't _manage," Ashley growled, and Spencer saw her hands shaking on the desk. "I know you can change the schedule; you did it for the new girl."

"Yes, well, that was a special circumstance, wasn't it? What special circumstance do you have, Miss Davies?" Spencer stood silently behind Ashley's back, her head reeling with shock, as she waited to hear Ashley's answer. Why, exactly, did she suddenly need her schedule changed? The pale girl stood stiff and silent for a long moment.

"Just forget it, okay?" She finally snarled, her voice venomous with barely controlled fury. "Thanks for nothing." Then she whirled on her heel, and her pitch-black eyes slammed straight into Spencer's. For the fraction of a moment that they shared eye contact, Spencer felt a wave of something hot and sparkling rush through her body. She stood dumbfounded, unable to understand the depth of emotion radiating from Ashley's pained expression. Was this _really_ about her? How could it be?

_"What?"_ Spencer finally demanded. Ashley just scowled, shook her head, and stomped out, her shoulder barely brushing against Spencer's as she passed. Despite how confused and indignant she felt, the blonde girl couldn't help swooning when the heady scent of something too fragrant to describe filled her nostrils. She couldn't quite put her finger on it—part floral, past musk, part citrus and cinnamon—but it made her tingle all the way through her body, and for a moment she stood there stupidly, unable to make her feet move. Then the door swung shut behind Ashley's retreating form, and Spencer came to her senses. She slammed her form down on the desk without even looking at it, and ran out the door.

Somehow, by the time she reached the parking lot, Ashley was already gone. It didn't seem possible that she could have reached her car already, let alone driven away; but Spencer's threshold for surprise and confusion seem to have been tapped, at least for today. Her capacity for frustration, however, was clearly unlimited, as she stomped to her truck, threw her backpack violently across the seat, and slammed the heavy door. Far too agitated to go home, she drove around Forks aimlessly, finally finding herself at the beach. But this beach was nothing like the warm, sunny escape she was used to back in LA; it was winter here, and the wind whipped her hair wildly around her face, chilling her straight down to the bone. She walked along the sandy shore anyway, hoping the cold would calm her boiling blood, her wriggling stomach. What an utterly bizarre first day. If it weren't for Kyla, the whole experience would have been a complete bust.

Thinking of her one real new friend brought a small degree of calm back to her; Kyla would surely be able to explain, make Ashley's insane behavior all make sense somehow. Maybe there was a reason, a perfectly reasonable reason, and Spencer was jumping to all the wrong conclusions, after all. _Maybe I'm just a complete narcissist, thinking everything's about me, _Spencer thought wryly, a small grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. The movement made her realize that her face was numb with cold. Turning stiffly into the wind, hurried back to her truck, shivering madly all the way home.

By the time Arthur came home, she was considerably calmer. Her homework was spread over the kitchen table, already mostly done. She'd managed to distract herself from any further thoughts of Ashley by throwing herself into her schoolwork; but at this rate, that strategy clearly wasn't going to hold out. She _definitely_ needed more academic stimulation.

"Hey, sweetheart. How was your first day?" Arthur asked, ruffling her hair as he crossed to the fridge to get himself a beer.

"It was fine," Spencer shrugged, pleased with the casual tone of her voice. "Everybody was really nice to me. I made some friends…I think I even have a shopping date for this weekend."

"That's my girl," Arthur nodded approvingly. "I knew you'd get along fine here. This is a good town, with good people. Who's your new shopping friend? I probably know their parents."

"Kyla Davies," Spencer said, trying and failing to hold onto her breezy tone as she bumped up against the edge of what she wasn't letting herself think about.

"Ah…well that's the one family around here I don't really know. They just moved here a couple of years ago, from Alaska I think…but they've never caused any trouble on my watch, I can tell you that. Dr. Davies took over as chief of the ER when old Dr. Gerandy finally retired, and we're lucky to have such a gifted surgeon in a small town like Forks. He could be making a heck of a lot more money in a big city hospital somewhere…but he said he wants to give his kids a nice, quiet, small town life. Not many people put their families before their careers these days...those are some lucky kids, I think." Arthur nodded approvingly.

"Well, Kyla's really nice. She sits next to me in Spanish. But she seems to have this crazy idea that all the boys in town are, like…interested in me, or something."

"Well that's not so hard to believe," Arthur shrugged, nudging her gently with his elbow. Spencer sighed. "But just because they ask, doesn't mean you have to say yes…you know that, right?"

"Yes, Dad." Spencer rolled her eyes.

"And you should also know that when you find someone you want to say yes to…no matter who they are…it's all right with me. Do you know that, honey?"

"I…yeah, Dad. I mean, thank you." They grinned at each other, and Arthur patted Spencer's hand.

"You're a good kid, Spence. Now let's get dinner started. Want to be my sous-chef?"

……………………………

Spencer slept badly that night, unable to distract herself from thoughts of Ashley once the lights were out, and the stillness of the night took over. She tried to imagine what she'd say when they were side by side in Biology, mapping out several different conversations in her head. In one scenario, she started out on the offensive, demanding to know what the other girl's problem was; but she couldn't see that one ending particularly well. Next she imagined a gentler approach, where she was compassionate and open to listening to whatever the other girl had to say about what was that was bothering her, that had made her act so strangely the day before. _That_ was assuming that Ashley was willing to open up to the complete stranger who just happened to take up residence in the empty seat beside hers. Finally, Spencer imagined simply pretending that yesterday hadn't happened, and starting over with a clean slate. _Hello, my name is Spencer Carlin, it's very nice to meet you. Do you mind if I just sit here and smell your hair for an hour?_

But the night of stomach-churning anxiety did Spencer no good at all, because Ashley wasn't in school the next day; or the day after that. Kyla said she was home with the flu, and Spencer tried very hard to believe that, which was difficult if she thought about it for any length of time; so she tried not to do that, either. By the third day, she was running dangerously low on distractions. Looking for something, anything, to occupy her mind once school let out, the blonde girl decided to make dinner as a surprise for her dad. She and Glen had mostly lived on frozen dinners and pizza at home, with Paula always working late; but Spencer did have a few specialties up her sleeve. She drove to the grocery store from school to get ingredients, satisfied that she'd stay busy until her dad got home to keep her company. It was a bleak, wet day, and she had to watch her step in the icy parking lot, especially when she was coming out of the store with her arms full of groceries.

Suddenly, several things happened at once. The awful sound of squealing tires made Spencer look up, to see a grey minivan spinning out of control across the ice-slicked asphalt. The back end was arcing around to the front, and in the second it took her to look up, Spencer could see that it was heading straight for her. Even if she'd had the sort of athletic reflexes necessary to jump out of the way in the split second she had available, there was nowhere to go; she was standing right at her truck's back bumper, with cards parked on either side. Her heart seemed to freeze in shock.

_I'm going to die,_ she thought calmly, like it was a dream. _I'm going to die right now, and I never kissed Ashley. I never even really talked to her._ Without any conscious thought, her eyes squeezed shut, her body automatically protecting her from having to witness her own gruesome demise.

Then something hard slammed into her; but it wasn't the minivan. It was much too small…and a familiar smell, too delicious to confuse with anything else, filled her nostrils. Then her head smacked the pavement, and a horrible, metallic crunching sound filled her ears, as shattered glass rained down over her head. With a gasp, Spencer's eyes flew open.

Ashley was crouching protectively over her, with her back against the truck, and one hand braced against the minivan's back wheel, inches from Spencer's face. She stared down anxiously at the blonde girl, looking terrified; and all the disquiet Spencer had felt for the last three days dissolved like sugar in hot water.

"Are you okay?" Ashley asked urgently, unmoving. Her voice was low and smoky. Spencer just blinked up at her, dazed, staring into her blazing amber eyes.

"Your eyes changed color," she said dazedly. Then she tried to sit up; but Ashley put a surprisingly strong hand on her shoulder, forcing her back down.

"Don't move, okay? You hit your head."

"But it's cold," Spencer complained, becoming aware of the fact that she was lying flat on her back on a sheet of ice.

"Shh," Ashley whispered, taking off her coat and laying it over Spencer's shivering body. "You're okay…just lie still for a minute. We'll get you to the hospital."

"I don't need to go to the hospital," Spencer grumbled, noticing dimly that a noisy crowd was gathering around them. "My dad will freak out…"

"And I guess he wouldn't mind if you just got up and walked away with a concussion?" Ashley quipped sarcastically. There was a tiny smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. In her dazed state, Spencer almost reached out to touch it, but then she thought better of it. Instead, she asked the obvious question.

"Where…where did you come from? How did you _do_ that?"

"What, knock you out of the way? Adrenalin, I guess. Did I hurt you? I'm so sorry, Spencer." It was the first time the dark-haired girl had said her name…the effect it had on the woozy blonde was so powerful, she almost forgot about her questions. Almost.

"No, you…didn't knock me out of the way…you got between me and the van. You stopped it with your bare hand."

"Um…I think you hit your head harder than I thought," Ashley frowned, and she looked so genuinely disconcerted, that for a second Spencer believed her. But she knew what she'd seen.

_"No,"_ she insisted stubbornly. "I saw you…" But the piercing wail of an ambulance siren cut her off, and suddenly they were surrounded by shouting paramedics. "Ashley," she whimpered, terrified when the dark-haired girl left her field of vision.

"I'm right here," Ashley assured her, and suddenly Spencer realized they had loaded her into the ambulance without her noticing; the dark-haired girl was sitting beside her in the narrow space, smiling gently now. "Don't worry, Spencer…you'll be okay. My dad will fix you up, good as new."

"I know…what you are," Spencer mumbled, blackness starting to invade the edges of her vision.

"Oh yeah?" Ashley murmured, and her heart-breaking smirk returned. "What am I, then?"

"You're an angel," Spencer whispered. Then she drifted into the blackness.


	3. Chapter 3

Hey all,

so this update is a little shorter than the others...but based on all the feedback I'm getting (which is totally awesome), it seems like people would prefer more frequent updates rather than longer updates. So here's the latest-- I promise to keep up the pace as best I can! :)

Thanks for reading,

--JW

* * *

**Sunset**

**Chapter 3**

**By JewWitch**

* * *

When Spencer woke up, for a moment her mind was completely blank. She didn't remember the van rushing toward her across the ice, or Ashley, or even being in Forks. A dull, throbbing pain pulsed behind her eyes, and she felt a little queasy. There were footsteps and voices nearby, and in her hazy state, Spencer wondered why all these people were in her bedroom.

"Get out of my room, Glen," She mumbled sleepily.

"We're not in your room, Spencer." The low, musical voice that answered was _not_ Glen's, and as soon as she heard it, all Spencer's memories came flooding back in one elastic second.

"Oh," she gasped, opening her eyes and sitting bolt upright in bed. The harsh, fluorescent lights stabbed at her eyes, and she put her hand to her head as she looked quickly around. She was in a white hospital bed, with a white curtain drawn around it for privacy; just beyond were the bustling sounds of doctors and nurses that she'd thought were invading her bedroom a moment ago. A quick glance down at herself confirmed that she was basically okay; all her limbs were accounted for, and there was no sign of blood, thank goodness. Then she looked up at the source of the hypnotic voice she'd heard, knowing what she'd find without quite being able to believe it: Ashley Davies was sitting beside her bed in a hard plastic hospital chair, looking perfectly peaceful for the first time since Spencer had laid eyes on her.

"So who's Glen? Your boyfriend?"

"Ugh, don't say that when I'm already nauseous," Spencer snorted, causing an extra throb across her temple. "He's my asshole brother."

"Oh," Ashley said simply, and Spencer wondered whether she was just imagining the faint smirk on the other girl's pale face. "How do you feel?" The dark-haired girl asked gently. Still woozy, Spencer barely managed to bite back the first words that sprang to the tip of her tongue—_Fine, as long as you're here_.

"I'm okay," she murmured, which, all things considered, was mostly true.

"Boy, are you a crappy liar," Ashley chuckled, and this time Spencer didn't have to guess whether or not the other girl was smiling—her grin was big enough to crinkle the bridge of her nose, which sent a small flock of butterflies directly to Spencer's queasy stomach.

"I didn't say I was perfect," she grumbled crossly.

"Does your head hurt?" Ashley asked gently.

"Uh-huh," Spencer sighed. "But it's better than being splattered on the pavement…"

"Shh, don't think about that," Ashley murmured, and suddenly her cool hand was pressed lightly to Spencer's forehead. Immediately, the pain receded to a faint whisper. "Better?"

"Yeah…that feels good. Your hands are cold."

"I have bad circulation," Ashley said dryly, with another smirk that Spencer didn't understand. "So, do you remember anything?"

"What, like do I remember seeing you stop a speeding car with your bare hand?" Spencer smirked this time, regretting it a moment later when Ashley sat back and took her hand away, and the pain flooded back into her aching head.

"That's not what happened, Spencer." Her voice was perfectly calm and cool; but her eyes studied the blonde girl's anxiously.

"Please don't patronize me," Spencer replied softly, staring back into the twin pools of amber that she _knew_ had been a different color the last time she'd seen them. "I'm not going to tell anyone, okay? You won't end up on Oprah or anything. Just be straight with me. How did you stop the car? Are you…I don't know…the bionic woman or something?" Ashley chuckled a little, and the sound calmed Spencer's queasy stomach somehow.

"I'm not a superhero, Spencer. You don't want lies? Fine. But I can't tell you the truth, either, so I'd suggest you just forget about it and be happy you're alive."

"I _am_ happy I'm alive. I mean…thank you for saving my life."

"No problemo." They held each other's eyes in silence for a moment. Spencer could feel her heart rate picking up, and it made her head throb harder. She wished Ashley would put her hand back on her forehead.

"Listen," she said slowly, mustering up all her nerve. "If there's ever anything I can ever do to pay you back…"

"Spencer!" Her father's panicked voice shouted from just outside the curtain, the sound of his heavy footsteps slapping frantically on the linoleum. _Dammit._

"I'm here, Dad," she called, and immediately the curtain was ripped back to reveal her father's face, filled with worry. As annoyed as she felt at his poor timing, Spencer realized she was glad to see him. "Hi," she said sheepishly, giving him a little wave.

"Oh, Jesus, Spencer. Are you all right?" He swooped down and hugged her tightly; she could feel him shaking.

"I'm fine, Dad, I promise. I'm okay…" He pulled back and examined her face, looking skeptical.

"I'd rather hear that from the doctor, Spence. I'm going to go find him, okay? Then we can get you home." He kissed her forehead, then, standing up, seemed to notice Ashley for the first time.

"Oh, right, sorry. Dad, this is Ashley Davies. She just saved my life."

"It really wasn't"—Ashley started to say, and Spencer could see the panic flash into her eyes.

"It _was_ a big deal, Ash. If you hadn't knocked me out of the way, I'd be hamburger helper right now." The dark-haired girl glanced quickly back into her blue eyes; and Spencer gave her a little wink. They smiled at each other.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ashley," Arthur said earnestly, wringing her hand in both of his. "I don't know how I can ever repay you." Ashley glanced back and forth between the two of them, looking shy for the first time.

"I…um…I'll go get my dad to come talk to you," she said finally, jumping up from her chair and darting around the curtain. Spencer just looked at the spot where she'd disappeared, and sighed. Arthur glanced down at her speculatively.

"I thought you said you made friends with the other Davies girl," he said curiously.

"I did," Spencer said absently, still staring at the place where Ashley wasn't. "I only talked to Ashley once…and I thought she hated me."

"Nobody could ever hate you, baby," Arthur shook his head, squeezing her shoulder lightly.

"Mom hates me," she said dully, finally looking away from the curtain and closing her eyes.

"Spence…" but before Arthur could offer his daughter any more words of comfort, the curtain opened again, and a shockingly young and handsome man in a white doctor's coat walked in, his eyes the exact same molten-amber shade as Ashley's. Spencer wondered if they'd been a different color a few days ago, too.

"Miss Carlin, it's good to see you awake. I'm Dr. Davies." He reached out for Spencer's hand, and she shook it, noting that it was just as cool and smooth as Ashley's; like fresh sheets on a hot summer's night. "Chief Carlin," he nodded to Spencer's dad.

"Is Spencer all right?" Arthur asked immediately. "Can I take her home?"

"Well the MRI came back clean, but you were out for a while, Spencer. It's most likely a mild concussion, but I'd like to examine you again now that you're awake. May I?"

"Sure," Spencer shrugged, disappointed that Ashley hadn't come back. She lay still while he checked her vitals and shined a bright light in each of her eyes.

"Any nausea?"

"A little," she admitted, hoping he wouldn't say she had to stay in the hospital overnight.

"Headache?"

"It's not that bad," she said reluctantly.

"Hmm. Any ringing in your ears?"

"No," she said firmly.

"Blurred vision? Memory loss?"

"Definitely not." She smirked slightly, thinking about what Ashley wanted her to forget. Dr. Davies nodded, and made a few notes on his clipboard.

"All right, Spencer, I think your dad can take you home now. Tylenol for the pain, and I want to see you back here if you're not feeling better in a couple of days. You were very lucky today—most pedestrians don't walk away from a car crash."

"Lucky Ashley was there," Spencer replied. "She saved my life."

"Yes, so I heard. She has…excellent reflexes." _He knows,_ Spencer thought instantly. She wasn't sure what there was to know, still; but she was sure that Ashley's dad was in on it, one way or another.

"Thank you, Dr. Davies. Thank you so much," Arthur said fervently, wringing his hand again.

"Just doing my job, Chief," the doctor nodded. "Make sure she takes it easy for a few days." Arthur nodded. Once the doctor had slipped out, he sat on the edge of Spencer's bed and gave her leg a squeeze.

"So, kid, what do you say to one of our famous horror-fests? I'll make zombie-chili and graveyard cupcakes…unless you're too grown-up for that now." Spencer grinned reluctantly, still disappointed that she wasn't going to see Ashley again before she left the hospital. But the memory of one of her favorite childhood activities with her dad made it impossible to stay that way.

"Well, it's been a long time since we did that stuff…I think I need to try it all again to know whether I'm too grown-up."

"You got it, kiddo. C'mon, let's get out of here."


End file.
